


Crawl Out Of My Body And Into Yours

by Patchouli (lifelesslyndsey)



Series: Brothers Grim [16]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Ben Hargreeves' Tentacles | Bentacles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 21:52:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18859828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifelesslyndsey/pseuds/Patchouli
Summary: Hey. Hi.I had a plan. It was a good plan. This was not it.The boys took over this chapter. Diego wasn't even supposed to be here.They did what they want. The fucking sluts.idk what happened.Also - shout out to xofrnakxo with the strong sense of stranger danger who blocked me immediately on discord.blocked from a potato.  because I don't understand how discord works, but feel free to add me. GrimPatchoul#2149(its cool, we good now and I really do respect that kind of creeper-reflex)Title from Greta Isaacs 'You'.





	Crawl Out Of My Body And Into Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. Hi.  
> I had a plan. It was a good plan. This was not it. 
> 
> The boys took over this chapter. Diego wasn't even supposed to be here. 
> 
> They did what they want. The fucking sluts. 
> 
> idk what happened. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also - shout out to xofrnakxo with the strong sense of stranger danger who blocked me immediately on discord. 
> 
> blocked from a potato. because I don't understand how discord works, but feel free to add me. GrimPatchoul#2149
> 
> (its cool, we good now and I really do respect that kind of creeper-reflex)
> 
> Title from Greta Isaacs 'You'.

Ben is acutely aware of the situation here, really is.  Being dead does that to a person, he thinks. Or well - if they _know_ they’re gone, anyway. He’s seen plenty of oblivious post-lifers, and they were indeed not aware. But he’s been dead a long time, only ever capable of observation and it had been a source of frustration for so long that sometimes he forgets he can say things now. Do things. Voice an opinion. Suggestion. Objection.

 

Not that he currently has any objections, mind you.

 

It’s only that he’s in a constant state of hyper-awareness.  And right now all he’s hyper-aware of is the fact that Diego and Klaus had _sex_ .  Ben’s reasonably sure he’d been a catalyst of sorts to the whole thing. When he’s high enough and sleepy, curled up on the beanbag Klaus bought him, losing interest in a book or movie - in those sort of moments - Ben thinks he might be the catalyst to _all_ of this....this...thing. This thing they were doing.

 

He punched Klaus in the face, and then _he kissed him._

He knew Diego was there in the hall, and he _let him watch._

He’s fairly certain, if nothing else, he’s absolutely the reason Klaus and Diego ever----

 

It’s too much to think about, too finite, too self-centered. He’s not that special; he’s _not_ .  But he did kiss Klaus, and he did want Diego to watch. And so when he feels Klaus call him, _summon_ him, to find the pair of them in a sticky tangle on the gym floor...he’s quietly thrilled. Partly because he knows Diego feels inexplicably guilty for putting his hands on Ben when Klaus isn’t present like Ben somehow belongs to Klaus (and perhaps he does, maybe they all do in a way, but still---). Partly because he knows how much Klaus fucking needed it, and how patiently he would have waited, starving for it in companionable silence, content to wither away and never, ever ask.  And yeah, maybe it’s partly because he thinks about them _doing it_ a lot. Like--- an excessive amount of time is spent thinking about Diego fucking Klaus.  

 

Sometimes it’s when Diego’s pulling on his stupid sex harness, and Ben happens to be creeping. Diego looks precisely like the sort Klaus wants to be pinned down by, and he knows without knowing that Klaus has thought about it too. Leather-Daddy comes to mind, but it’s more than that. Diego’s _thick_ , and he prowls, sometimes without ever even moving. It’s the way he looks at you - at anything at all. There’s a ferocity in his gaze, a tangible heat. Dark eyes narrowed, mouth pursed, like he’s breaking you down to pounce. He looks dangerous. He looks lethal. Nothing so sharp as Klaus, no.  Klaus is made of edges, all sure to cut you. Diego is shaped like _blunt force trauma_ and the irony there, the contradiction, only emphasizes the point.

 

Sometimes it’s when Diego has Ben on his back, legs spread. Diego talks a lot. Diego talks more than Klaus sometimes, usually about what he wants to do to Ben, what he wants to do to Klaus, his personal opinions on Ben’s asshole, so on and so forth.  Diego is not afflicted by the same biting silence that eats Ben up when posed with the question of _what do you want?_ No, Diego is not tormented by any sort of inability to communicate exactly what it is he’s thinking.  He knows, and he will fucking tell you. In visceral, haunting detail.

 

He thinks about fucking Klaus _a lot._

 

Ben can hardly take credit for it, of course. That would be a little too self-involved, and Ben does his best not to think about himself at all if he can help it.  He’s certain Diego was already thinking about it before Ben ever came him, stumbling over his words but low-key desperate to get it out, already. He’s certain Diego’s been thinking about fucking Klaus for a while - maybe since that day he stumbled into the bathroom to find Klaus putting his hands all over Ben. Maybe since _before_.

 

Speaking of the bathroom.

 

“We could just use the normal bathtub,” Klaus suggests, when Ben spends too long staring at the small, waist-deep wading pool their father had built for Ben’s personal practice. It looks nothing like he recalls, filled instead to the brim with steaming water and high, foamy white bubbles.

There is no blood here - red or black. 

 

Klaus has a preferred bathtub, in the smallest bathroom on the third floor where the water has two temperatures - hypothermic and boiling. It’s where Ben usually showers and where Diego sometimes watches. It’s a good bathroom, but a very, very small one. “We wouldn’t both fit.”

 

Klaus is already undressing, mismatched pieces of clothing falling in a puddle around his feet. “Sure we would,” he says gamely, moving forward to undress Ben. “Might be snug, but that’s part of the charm. I like a tight fit.”

 

Ignoring that innuendo, Ben takes a deep breath, and tugs the zipper down on his hoodie. “This is fine.” He’s not so sure, but Klaus loves taking baths, and Ben’s not about to shun him for wanting to share something he enjoys.

 

(Even if he suspects this has nothing to do with bathing and everything to do with growing from their trauma. This is no different than dry humping up against a mausoleum. He wonders if Diego will watch this too. He kind of hopes so.)

 

So he gets in the pool. They’re taking a bath. In the stone pool, where Ben used to practice unleashing his thousand-year-old vicious intestine monster. Okay!

 

Klaus takes up residence on the corner steps of the pool. Ben allows himself to be gently tugged back until he’s flush against Klaus' chest. He’s not much smaller than Klaus, not really, but he fits in every space Klaus makes for him all the same. And it's nice - to have that space made, a space just for Ben. 

 

Diego and Klaus don't fit together so well, but Ben thinks - there's something compelling about that too .

 

“See?” Klaus presses his scruffy cheek to Ben’s temple. “I don’t mind a tight fit.” He says again, ruffling Ben’s hair. “Helps if you’re wet first, though.”

 

And that! That! Ben should have seen it coming. He’s been accidentally setting Klaus up for shitty jokes for the better part of their entire life. _Fuck him._ “Oh my God, did you drag me into this bath so you could make sex jokes?”

 

Klaus sinks them a little lower in the water until it touches Ben’s chin. Fat, foamy bubbles shimmer and pop where they bump his skin, glimmering bright in the shitty overhead light. He’d like to say that Klaus’ usual glow is au natural, but a good two-thirds probably comes from Bath and Body Works. Klaus is all about that low-life to glow-life. But, he has the cheekbones for it, Ben will admit. “They’re not jokes. They’re _puns_ \- that’s like...I mean, you wouldn’t compare tuna and caviar.”

 

Ben snorts, and the puff of it sends ripples through the iridescent water. He’s glad the lights are on, and that Klaus didn’t like...light candles or something. He’s not sure he could handle it, he’s not sure he could handle how much he’d probably _like_ it. He feels his face heat, just _thinking_ about it, and he clenches his hands over the sides of the tub.  “Of course you wouldn’t. One’s an egg, and one’s a fish.”

 

Klaus presses a kiss to the curve of his neck, where it meets his shoulder and the water surface. It’s a sweet press, and then a drag of teeth. Ben shivers. “Exactly. One of them came first.”

 

“ _Klaus_ ,” Ben mutters, sinking a little lower into the water until his mouth can’t betray him. He’s pretty sure Klaus is alluding Ben _always_ coming first, but calling him on it will only encourage him. “You’re thinking of chicken and eggs.”

 

Wriggling his arms up under Ben’s, Klaus lays the flat of both his palms over Ben’s stomach. “Well, tuna is like chicken of the sea, so I think the simile still stands.”

 

“It definitely doesn’t.” He tries to keep himself still, he really does, but the things inside of him don’t listen, and they press up against his black hole underbelly where the skin isn’t thinner, but it feels insignificant against the curious push of eldritch monsters, nudging like needy cats against Klaus’ hands. Ben’s fingers tense over the stone edge, so tight his knuckles go white.  Klaus is calling them to the surface. “Klaus...”

 

“Shhhh,” Klaus murmurs, dragging his mouth over Ben’s cheek. He raises one hand, pinching a joint and lime green lighter from on top of a fluffy pink towel, where it’s folded neatly on the floor beside the pool. “Do me a favor, Benny. Light us up?”

 

Well. At least it’s not a candle. Ben takes both, lighting the joint with faintly trembling hands. Klaus is touching Them. Klaus is calling to Them. He’s petting Them, through Ben’s skin. He can see the shape of them beneath his flesh, and it’s disconcerting, but Klaus is unaffected. Ben hits it first, courtesy be damned, because if Klaus is going to insist on antagonizing a thousand-year-old Eldritch monster in a bubble bath, Ben’s going to get as high as fucking possible.

 

“Easy, easy.” Klaus shakes the faint remaining water drops from his left hand and takes the joint, hitting it deep and easy. “I need you completely cognizant for like two more minutes. Little hits, baby-boy.” He holds the joint to Ben’s lips, and he wishes it felt patronizing, or even a little condescending but he knows Klaus too well, and so it doesn’t. It just feels like sharing. It’s caring.  He still has a hand on Ben’s belly, fingers drumming a faint, erratic beat that Ben can feel matched from the inside out like they’re playing fucking patty-cake. “One more, yeah?” And Ben does.

 

_Because he’s a good boy._

 

Klaus takes one hit, two and then three. Ben doesn’t ask for more. If he needs Ben aware and Here For It, then it’s something _new_ . Something they haven’t eased into, or discussed at great and irritating lengths. Something Ben hasn’t consented to in four different ways and three different languages until Klaus was absolutely certain that his _yes_ was a _hell yes._

 

He smokes it slowly, stroking his palm firm and smooth over Ben’s belly, again and again, and again until all the wriggling things are entranced, hypnotized, moving in a serpentine rhythm very much set by Klaus. Ben holds himself very still and tries to decide if he’s allowed to enjoy it or not. Klaus would say yes, but Ben’s still not sure.

 

“I’m going to fuck you.” Klaus makes a show of snuffing out the cherry on the joint and dropping the roach into a teacup.  It’s a subtle thing, pale white porcelain painted with dainty lavender roses, a gold-dipped pedestal, and a matching latticework saucer.  Father used to drink his tea from it every afternoon. It’s out of place in the dank, underbelly of the mansion, no matter how finely appointed the room may be with its glossy marble floors and gold sconces shining brightly from vibrant, damask walls.   Fragile, fine and delicate; Klaus uses it for his ashtray. A fine fuck-you to their failure of a father.

 

A fine fuck-you.

 

 _I’m going to fuck you_ , Ben thinks, letting Klaus’ words rattle around his fractured mind.

  


“Maybe not today. Maybe not even this week, but I _am_ going to.” He licks Ben, the curve of his ear. “ _God_ , Benny. I’m really gonna fuck you.” His hand, not the one still pressing hard against his stomach, slips beneath the water and Ben’s ready for him when he wraps his long fingers around Ben’s cock but he still chokes a little, sputtering in the water, straining to hold still, to breathe, to function all at once. “How do you want it?” He squeezes Ben, brief but tight, and Ben groans, hand slapping hard against the edge of the tub, water splashing over the side as he lays his head against Klaus’ shoulder. “Or maybe I should ask _Diego_?”

 

“ _Shit_ ,” Ben hisses, eyes clenched shut.

 

Klaus laughs and strokes him harder, dipping a finger into his belly button very briefly. It sets off a strange, chain-reaction in his body, tentacles coiling and twisting and pressing up against him everywhere. They liked it - whatever Klaus did. Ben’s...not so sure.  “That’s right, baby boy. Diego’s told me all about how talkative you get for him.”

“Everything?”Ben really hopes that Klaus doesn’t expect him to reiterate all the things Diego and he got up too. Variation might have been limited, but the intensity was not, and he’s confident he couldn’t put it to words without the bathwater boiling from the heat of his mortification.

 

“Everything,” Klaus confirms, and it’s _terribly_ reassuring to know that he knows, that Ben’s not keeping secrets anymore. “Seems you’re much more talkative with a tongue in your ass, and I did consider that approach, but I figured that wouldn’t be playing fair.”

 

Oh so...Diego _told him everything-everything._

 

At first, Ben wasn’t entirely sure he liked rimming. It felt good, but slowly - like an itch, you can’t quite reach to scratch. Chiefly, the appeal was how much Diego liked it.  Ben couldn’t uniquely describe the sensation of enjoying someone else's pleasure, but that’s simply how it was. And Diego really, _really_ liked it.

 

Fighting to keep himself still while Klaus moved his hand to play with his balls and press down harder, low on his stomach ( inexplicably, he felt the pressure of both in his ass, of all places but he suspects Klaus knows how and why but the science is lost on Ben right now), Ben swallowed, throat clicking dry and needy. Toes firm against the black tiles of the pool bottom, he pressed himself back, hard against Klaus' chest. “Since when do you play fair?”

 

“Oh I don’t,” Klaus admits, like nothing at all, as his fingers slip a little lower to brush Ben’s asshole and Ben’s legs move with their own authority, making room on reflex. _Shit_. “But I have bigger things in mind for you.”

 

He’s trying really hard not to give himself up so quickly, no matter how much he wants to spread his legs wider and beg.  He suspects Klaus doesn’t like it when he begs. He always hushes Ben with a quick, and fierce kiss and gives him instantly whatever it is he wants. So he keeps himself quiet, keeps his shaking thighs only slightly parted. “You know I hate surprises.”

 

“Which is why I’m warning you now,” Klaus tells him, sweetly — warning you, not telling you. _That’s why I’m warning you now._ “You want it, Benny?”

 

“Please don’t---” He can already feel the words wither and wizen on his tongue even as his balls tighten and his heart races in his chest. “Please don’t make me---”

 

A kiss, quick and sweet, is pressed to his cheek. “I know, I know — just yes or no. You don’t even need to say it. Just let me know.”

 

Slowly, Ben nods. It’s easier when he isn’t expected to talk.

 

“Good. God---that’s good, Benny. And if you change your mind, you know you can tell me. Any time, you can tell me. If all you fucking want is the _tip_ , I'd give it to you.”

 

Ben nods again. He thinks about the way Diego put Ben in his lap, and made him fuck himself down on Diego's fingers - ride him properly, just for practice. 

 

He does not want _just the tip._

 

_Ben wants Klaus inside of him - physically too._

“Anything you _want_ ...Anything at all. You tell Diego, and he'll tell me.” He’s pressing down harder onto Ben’s stomach now, pushes matching the rhythm of his other hand where it’s wrapped around Ben’s cock and it’s---it’s a lot. He can feel the pressure building up inside of him, but it’s not in his balls where he's used to it, not exactly. It’s _everywhere_. His stomach jumps and flutters, clenching. It doesn’t hurt. It---

 

It---

 

It...feels _good_.

 

Ben’s really not sure how he feels about that. He doesn’t ask Klaus to stop, though. Not...Not yet.

 

“Diego---” Ben begins, because he thinks he should explain himself. Diego’s not exactly easier to talk to, not about this. It’s just---He’s _ruthless_ but endlessly patient, and it’s just really hard not to beg him to suck his dick already when he’s got three fingers in Ben’s ass and seems very content to do nothing else but maintain a lot of aggressive fucking eye contact. Or when he’s got Ben on all fours, with---yes---his tongue up Ben’s ass and a hand around his cock okay, Ben just...Ben just starts talking. He’s not entirely sure why, but he does, and terrible, terrible things come out.

 

Usually about Klaus.

 

(He wants his hair pulled, he wants a hand on his throat, he wants to be held down, he wants to be fucked---)

 

“Speak his name, and so shall he appear,” Klaus sings, as the door across the room opens and Diego (of course) slips in. He was waiting, probably, listening. He and Klaus probably have a plan.  Ben shivers all over. “Get in, Gogo. There’s plenty of room.”

 

They share a look, one Ben can’t decipher, and the heat in Diego’s gaze is no less intense when it’s not pinned on him.  Klaus is better at holding it, even as he pets Ben’s belly and holds his cock in a firm, still grasp. He has plans. _Ben wants to fucking come._ But he keeps himself still and waits.

  


Diego strips with utilitarian practice, laying his clothes neatly over a stone bench at the end of the pool. He doesn’t strut like Klaus does, once he’s naked. He simply slides himself into the water.   He slices through the bubbles and somehow manages not to look fucking ridiculous, and it’s only when he’s standing right before them that he turns those dark eyes to Ben.

 

“You good?” He grabs Ben’s chin, tilts his face up out of the water. “Both of us too much for you; you just gotta say it.”

 

“Yeah, no---no, I’m good. This is good.” Honestly, the only bad part is that Ben still has no fucking idea what to do with his hands. He was sort of getting the hang of hand-placement when was just one of them. He doesn’t have enough hands for the two of them. "Shit." 

 

(It’s thoughts like this that make him feel sixteen and he just...does not fucking appreciate it.)

 

“Me and Diego - we had some ideas,” Klaus says, as Diego settles to his knees in the water, all but his face lost below the foamy surface. He has fucking bubbles in his beard, and it is _not_ a bad look.  “You trust me, Benny? You trust Diego?”

 

Diego’s knelt between Ben’s legs before, and so he can’t be blamed for the Pavlovian response it evokes in his body.  This is the first time Ben’s found himself between them, but he’s thought about it. God - he’s thought about it. He’s fairly certain he’d say yes to anything right now. And he’s well aware that’s his dick speaking, but it’s made pretty good choices so far, so he’s going to let it have this one.  “Of course---of course, I do.”

 

He can feel Klaus smile, where he’s pressed it to Ben’s hair. “You can say no, anytime you want.”

 

“Okay.” He’d argue that there’s nothing he wouldn’t try. Shit - he’s liked everything Klaus and Diego have suggested so far, he doubts very much this will be different.  It's the naivety of his body speaking though - his brain knows that. So he says, _okay_. Okay. “ _Oooh---fuck_.”

 

“Diego can hold his breath indefinitely,” Klaus reminds him helpfully, just as Diego puts his mouth on Ben’s dick, under the water and good Christ---Ben didn’t expect that. Should have expected that. Did not. He’s been blown by Diego before, but never while Klaus was touching him all over, and never chin-deep in warm, Klaus-scented bath water. “Now, for _my_ idea.”

  


Ben feels what's happening instantly. It’s a sensation he’s uncomfortably familiar with, but never has he felt it in unison with _getting his fucking dick sucked._ The things inside him are still moving in sleepy, hypnotic circles, chasing Klaus’ fingertips like goldfish in a pond.  Klaus pauses at his belly button. “Yes or no.”

 

His head is swimming, his body floating. Everything is soft against his skin, and sharp beneath it. Diego is---very good at this. He’s not precise like Klaus is, he doesn’t move to a tempo, doesn’t work Ben up from the bottom down. He’s messy, uncoordinated, _enthusiastic_ .  Ben really just...Wants to grab his head and hold him down, force him to something a little more measured, a little more predictable, but that would be---no. No, he couldn’t. Still, it’s fucking good. And paired with the pressure of the Things inside of him, rising and rising and _rising_ like a terrible promise, staccato raindrops on a damn about to burst, racing, ringing, an ache he can’t sooth, an itch he can’t scratch, an aching bruise, or a tongue against a sore tooth; it doesn’t feel bad, it feels like too much but not quite enough to be good---Klaus with his hand on Ben’s belly, and the promise of more---

 

“I---I---”

 

“Shhhh,” Klaus hushes him, nuzzling his face against Ben’s hair because he’s stupid and he knows Ben secretly fucking likes it. “It’s okay. I won’t---”

 

“I can’t---” He knows what Klaus wants, and he wants to be _good_ , he does.  And it feels like it could feel good - like it could feel _amazing_ . They want out. _Let_ them out. They’ll be good. _He’ll_ be good. Let them out, let them out, let them out--- He can feel their interest, can feel how badly they want it, and he knows---he _knows---_

 

Ben hasn’t let Them out since the Apocalypse That Wasn’t. Not once. Not even a little bit. They’re hungry, and they’re bored, and they’re jittery and alive, and he’s afraid of them. God, he’s scared of them.

 

But right now---they don’t care about Ben at all.

 

They care about Klaus.

 

(Though a few of the smaller ones have taken notice of Diego, and they’re curious, they’re curious---)

 

Klaus calls to them. Klaus touches them, palm pressed to belly. Klaus treats them like a fucking pet, and it grinds Ben a little, it fucking _does_ because they’re monsters. They’re fucking _monsters_.

 

But it feels good. God---it feels so fucking _good_.

They like Klaus. They want him.

Ben understands.

 

They’re monsters; they’re monsters - all of them are. Diego’s doing terrible, terrible things to him below the water, fingers creeping up between Ben’s thigh and this parts familiar, this part is known, and Ben wants it so bad - God he wants it all---

 

(It feels if Ben had to describe it, very much like the too-much-pressure feeling of the one and only time Diego slid a fourth finger up his ass. He’d only done it the once, and it had been...it had been too much, but Ben had come so hard, so hard and so fucking _long_ , he’d blacked for a full five minutes and it that had felt good too. It feels like that, but instead of four fingers in his ass, Ben feels full all over. He needs to come. He just needs to come. He needs...He needs.... _hejustneedstocome_.)

 

“You can say no,” Klaus says again, a single fingertip resting just below Ben’s navel. “It’s okay, Benny. It’s okay---” He’s already drawing his hand away, and Ben can already feel all the delicious pressure start to fade.

 

He grabs Klaus wrist, holds his hand down hard on his belly and the Things writhe, and rail, and he can feel them inside and out, and it feels---

 

It feels---

 

“Benny?”

 

Ben nods.

 

He expects it to hurt. It’s always hurt before. But Klaus draws a single fingertip down his belly, and it should feel like he’s being sliced open, but it doesn’t. He opens for Klaus like a zipper being drawn, and while it is very, very unsettling, it doesn’t hurt at all.

 

(Tender is the word. Tender in a right way.)

 

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh, fuck.” It’s not him chanting, it’s Klaus, whose arms are holding him hard against his chest, as three thick, blue-black tentacles unfold themselves from Ben’s stomach, slapping hard and wet over the edge of the pool before. _Black_ bleeds into the water, shimmering like an oil spill. They’ve been here before, the monsters inside him. They know this place, and they are _curious_.  Ben---Ben really should pay more attention to them, but it’s hard to keep his eyes open when Diego’s curling his fingers on every upward suck. He learned that from Klaus, Ben’s hindbrain supplies and it’s almost...honestly...it’s almost too much.

 

Almost.

 

He’s not sure when he threw himself back against Klaus, but he is confident it’s only Klaus effort keeping him upright. He loses the battle against his own hands and----

 

“Oh God, Benny---Fuck yeah. Hold him down. Fuck his face.” Even as he says it, he’s tangling his fingers with Bens, drawing both their hands down to press against Diego’s hair. “C’ mon Benny---”

 

Ben does, God---Ben _does_. He’s not exactly one for quick obedience, but if it sounds like a good idea...his body gets ahead of his brain. It’s something about the physical world,  something addictive, and Ben just wants to feel it all. And he’s ashamed at how easy it is, how fucking good it feels. He digs his toes into Diego’s thighs and uses the leverage to fuck up into his mouth.  Diego is relentless, driving his fingers harder and deeper into Ben and the tentacles...the tentacles sort of lose priority.

 

(Their absence inside of him----it changes him a little.  Everything feels _more_ . Deeper. Harder. Wetter. Sweeter. _Better_. Like he isn't dividing every sensation between himself - and the eon of horror living inside him. This is, hands down, the best sex he’s ever had, and he really just...did not expect the tentacles).

 

They’re not wreaking havoc or squishing the insides out of his brothers, so really---this is fine. It’s already going 100% better than usual.  Klaus’s got it in hand. Klaus is going to have to have it in hand because Ben...just...really does not have enough hands for both of them _and_ the fucking tentacles.

 

“I’d sit you on my fucking dick and have you just like _this_ if it wasn’t your first time, _shit_ ,” Klaus hisses in his ear, and when Ben turns his head to look, Klaus' eyes are closed, and the pointed, slick tip of the larger tentacle is draped over his shoulder and across his cheek like a carless python. Ben’s breath stutters; it looks, inexplicably, _gentle_.

 

Ben would---Ben would say something to that, he really would, except Diego does....just...something and Ben nearly slips below the surface of the water. His hands fly from Diego’s hair, slapping hard against the stone edge of the pool, fingers curling cruely over the edge.  He throws his head back, hissing when something cold, and wet, slide over his throat.

 

“Shhh, shhh, shhh,” Klaus hushes, holding him up above the water. “Look at you. Fuck---Look at you, Benny. You’re fucking _beautiful_.”

 

“Hnnng,” Ben manages, as Diego shoves his thighs farther apart and takes Ben into his throat. “Ooooh, _God_ .”  Klaus’ cock is hard beneath Ben’s ass, and Ben....fucking... _wants it._

 

And Klaus might even---he might even do it if Ben asked. He might just---he might just fuck him _right here._ Ben's wet. He spent the better part of the morning, ignorant of Klaus designs on the day - three of his own fingers shoved deep inside of him because Diego had been busy and Ben....Ben _wanted._  But before he can figure out which words he could manage, a sticky, wet hand slides over his mouth. “Oh---don’t you dare.” Klaus bites his jaw, harder than he probably intends. “Fuck---don’t you dare, Benny. Because I _will, I_ will, and you are not in the position to be making those decision right now.”

 

 _I’m in a perfect position,_  Ben thinks, but he can’t say it because Klaus is sliding his fingers between his lips, pressing hard down on his tongue. “ _Mmmph---_ ”

 

“Suck them if you want,” Klaus suggests, and they’re in Ben’s mouth so why the hell not? “That’s it. That’s it, shit. And even if you were in the right position,” he continues, even as he kicks his legs out, forcing Ben’s apart, as he slips deeper into the water. “ _I’m_ not in the right position to make that call. So---Rain check on that, it’s not a no, just a not right now.” He bites Ben again, drags his teeth this time. “But God --- you really want it, don’t you?”

 

For lack of better means, he nods. Water floods the corner of his mouth, and Ben sputters. There’s a false fear that he’ll slip under - Klaus would never allow it- but it’s right there where the inky water brushes his open mouth. It makes his heart race, but he holds himself as still as he can.  

 

Klaus slides his fingers free from Ben’s mouth, moving to cup his chin instead and keep him above the water. He’s still holding Diego down though, fingers still tangled in Bens. “How many?”

 

It’s not a very clear question. Not even very direct. But Ben knows and flushes a bright and violent red. “Three.”

 

Klaus makes a noise, a broken, breathless noise, and the hand cupping Ben’s chin clenches, very briefly. “You can take three. Without even---”

 

Ben’s face only grows hotter, although he’s half sure he doesn’t have enough blood to split between his dick and his face, so the fact that he can’t see straight isn’t entirely alarming. “He started with two?” And probably knew what Ben had gotten up too immediately. 

 

“You start with _two_ ?” He’s not expecting Klaus to haul him up and kiss the shit out of him, not expecting the sudden and terrible emptiness as Diego is all but dislodged. Ben cries out, but Klaus kisses it right off his mouth. “Benny, Benny---” He’s fucking up against Ben now, dick driving up between Ben’s ass and it’s so---it’s so----

 

“ _Please_ ,” Ben accidentally says, hands slipping from the stone to Klaus arms where they’re still holding him, too-hard now, and the tentacles---the tentacles are everywhere, and Ben can’t---Ben should really be more concerned, but then Diego’s there, pressed up against his front, uncaring of the wriggling, slippery---

 

“You good?” Diego asks, grabbing his face gently between rough, calloused fingers. “Too much?”

 

Ben bares his teeth. Two words. All he needs is two words. “Don’t. _Stop_.”

Diego grins, boyish and bright but there’s something frightening, and terribly appealing by the dark, sticky blood clinging to his olive skin in patches black as shadows. His mouth, though, is a complete contradiction, pink and swollen. Ben’s a mess between them, can’t form words, can’t figure out his hands, he just wants to fucking _come_. Diego grinds forward, dragging his dick across Ben’s and driving him down harder against Klaus. “You gonna fuck him or what?”

 

“I don’t---” Ben can feel the curl of desperation in Klaus body, and it fills him with a sudden and intense drive to _speak_ . Klaus wants it. Klaus wants _him_. “Yeah--Yes. Help him up--- Wait! No---No, I shouldn’t.”

 

Ben is just....really fucking tired of waiting. He thinks that’s probably why what happens next...happens.

 

“I can’t be gentle, I can’t--- _fuck_ . Make him come so you can fuck me, Christ. Oh---Oh _fuck---_ ” Klaus goes very rigid below Ben and Ben----

 

Ben knows why.

 

The tentacles just... _really_ like Klaus.

 

“Oh----oh my _God_ .” Klaus' voice is a faint, frail wisp of a thing and Ben watches the other tentacles slither and sweep up the water, curling softly over both of Klaus' wrists. “Oh my God. Oh---Fucking---”  They pull them away from where they’d held Ben up, and Ben _slips_ , shaky legs failing him. “Ben? _Benny---_ ”

 

Diego catches him, hauling him up against his broad, wet chest which is a bit more Harlequin than Ben can fucking handle right now.  The tentacles don’t mind; they’re busy----

 

Both Ben and Diego look at Klaus, where he’s sprawled like Jesus on the Cross, tentacles undulating over his forearms, securing him in place. “Are we going to need a safe word?” Diego asks, more wryly than Ben could have ever managed. Klaus is wide-eyed, and Ben knows. Ben just knows. “Do the tentacles grasp the concept of safewords?”

 

The tentacle monsters speak a language only Klaus seems to know, so who could say. “Probably not, but they seem to like Klaus.”

 

There’s _absolutely_ a tentacle in his ass.

 

He knows what Klaus looks like when he’s being fucked. Ben knows. Ben knows that blissed out, heavy-lidded, open-mouthed look. He knows the tilt of Klaus head, the perfect angle, they breathy, shuddering heave of his chest, the way his toes are probably curled beneath the water. He’s honestly not sure who made this happen - if Ben did, through pure frustration, or maybe Klaus had a kink Ben never knew about, or even possibly the sentient, ancient, obsessive horror beasties like Klaus more than any of them expected, but whatever they’re doing (and Ben knows what they’re doing) Klaus---

 

Klaus could come like this.

 

“Oh,” he says, quiet and shocked. “ _Oh---fuck_.”

 

Thank God for Diego---or nothing would ever get done here.

 

“What do you think?” He asks Ben, tilting his head toward Klaus. “We both know you could ride him, just like this.” He turns to Klaus, even as he slides his hands up Ben’s back, and lets Ben disappear in the curve of his throat. “I could drop him on your cock right now, and nobody could stop me. He wants it. He’s fucking _worked_ for it. Yes or no, Klaus?”

 

 _Oh_ , Ben thinks, balls drawing up and even just the thought. _Oh fuck._

 

“I had a plan. It was a good plan. And this was not it,” Klaus manages, the whole of his body rolling and crashing back like riptide waves. His spine is curled, and he is very much pushing into whatever the tentacle is doing (Ben knows. Ben knows what the tentacle is doing).

 

Diego moves forward, walking Ben backward into the V of Klaus’ spread legs. Under the water, the thick, ropey muscles of the tentacle flex and curl where they brush his ankle. “Yes or no, Klaus? You say yes---” Diego smiles. “You say no, and I bend Benny over the edge of this pool and rim him till he cries before I bend you over the edge of this pool and fuck you. Everyone comes. We all go to bed winners.”

 

Ben...Ben thinks about the tentacles. Thinks about the way they move inside him. The way they’re always there, laying in wait. He thinks about how he ignores them, ignores their constant presence in his mind. How they whisper to him, but he never whispers back.  How Klaus talks to them directly, pets them, loves them.

 

 _Deeper_ , he thinks. _Harder_.

 

Ben feels it in his balls, feels it all over, as Klaus throws his head back and cries out. _Faster_ , he thinks. _Faster_.

 

“C’ mon Klaus,” Diego pushes, oblivious to what Ben’s doing to their brother.  “What’s it going to be?”

 

Klaus sputters, squirming where he’s pinned to the steps of the pool. “Who died and put you in charge? You’re not the boss of me.”

 

Ben’s still hiding in the curve of Diego’s neck, but he can visualize the indignant expression splashed across Diego’s face.  Diego is unmoved, hands sweeping up and down Ben’s back, absently soothing. “I am when you need me to be.”

 

“Oh,” Klaus says. _Oh_. “Well, I didn’t bring any lube.”

 

In that one single moment, Ben is wildly uncertain how he can feel so horrifically empty, and full to bursting all at once.  He’s still so fucking hard, and rocking up against Diego is looking, more and more compelling except that---that---sounded like---

 

 _That_ wasn’t a no.

 

“Benny already took care of that,” Diego announces to the whole fucking world, turning his head just enough to kiss Ben’s head, even as he speaks. It’s such an absent gesture, Ben feels it all over. “He took three fingers _way_ too easy. I told you he was ready.”

 

“This is----this is war tactics. I’m not in the position to say no---fuck---” His whole spine curls, and he sputters on a gasp so sharp, Ben thinks he might have come. Which would be---fucking _tragic_. “Oh god---Ben are you---”

 

“Maybe a little. I’m not sure,” Ben manages to say all at once, mouth pressed into the warm skin of Diego’s throat.

 

“You might want to stop.” Klaue hisses out. “Or I’m going to come.”

 

“So, that’s a yes?” Diego clarifies, urging Ben back another inch until his thighs bump Klaus’.

 

“Yes, it’s a fucking yes! Put him on my dick already God---he has a tentacle half a foot up my ass, and I am trying really, _really_ hard not to come. No promises.”

 

Diego falters, that suave bravado flickering for only a moment. “If you come before he does, I get to fuck him.”

 

“Uh.” Ben should---Ben should probably have some say in this conversation, but honestly---he has no disagreements. He turns to look at Klaus, feels the pull and play of the tentacles stretch between them.

“What do you say, Benny?” Klaus smirks, but it’s stretched thin and ruined by the constant curl of his body. “Think you can make me come first?”

 

No, Ben thinks. Not at all. He’s one hard grind away from coming all over Diego’s thigh.  But then---Diego’s walking him backward and Ben---Ben’s not stopping him. He’s waited so fucking long for this, and he fucking wants it. He’s worked for it, Diego’s not wrong at it seems right that Diego should be here too---he did half the work.

 

(He did all the work. Ben mostly just came all over both of them.)

 

But---he’s going to try very, very hard.

 

He nods, just once, eyes still caught by the sprawled sight of Klaus. He did that. _He_ did that to Klaus. He put that look on his face, that needy, hungry look.

 

Diego sighs with his whole body, and Ben feels better for it.  “ _Good boy.”_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> do you know what this means?
> 
> it means that we get to watch Klaus fuck Ben from Diego's perspective and honestly...I am here for that. 
> 
> this is my first time writing tentacle porn. idk if I'm any good, but like Diego - I only get better.


End file.
